Captain Vorpatril's Alliance (15 page)

“Don’t we have to go somewhere and register it, even for a simple civil match?” asked Tej. “We’d never make it to wherever! They’ll seize us as soon as we go out the door!”

“But not,” said Rish blackly, “the other door.” By braced his back harder against the latch, though he still stared, confounded, at the growing circle. His eyes were as wide as Ivan had ever seen them.

“No, that’s the beauty of it!” Ivan explained. “In Barrayaran law, the couple marry themselves. It’s a Time of Isolation thing, you wouldn’t understand. Your breath is your bond. You each prop up your Second—your witness—on the edge, you step into the circle, you speak your oaths, you step out, it’s done. The core oaths are really simple, though people gussy them up with all kinds of additions to stretch the ceremony out, God knows why, it’s usually racking enough.” He appealed for support. “Tell them I’m right, Byerly!”

“Actually”—By coughed, swallowed, found his voice—“he is. About the legalities, anyway.”

“I can use my military dependent travel chits to get you back to Barrayar,” Ivan went on. “Five jumps further away from your pursuers, and besides, once you’re married to me, you’ll have ImpSec totally on your side because, um, because. This’ll buy time. And as soon as you’ve figured out what you really want to do, we can go get a divorce in the Count’s Court. Not quite as easy as getting married—my Betan aunt thinks it should be t’other way around—but Count Falco’s an old friend of Mamere’s. Ten minutes, in and out, I swear! And you’ll both be on your way.”

“On our way where?” asked Rish, sounding confused.

“I don’t know, somewhere! I can’t think of everything all at once, you know!”

“Oh, so not a
permanent
—but I don’t know your oaths,” said Tej faintly, staring at him in a kind of hypnotized fascination as he stood before her waving the emptied box in time with his urgent persuasion.

“That’s all right, I have them memorized. I must have been dragged to about a thousand high Vor weddings in the past decade. I could probably recite them in my sleep. Or my nightmares. We won’t tell the dome cops about the divorce, of course. None of their business.”

Tej glanced toward the balcony. Toward him. Toward the balcony. Toward him.
Why is this a hard choice?

From the hallway, a teeth-gritting mechanical whine began, as of someone cutting through an airseal door.

“You can’t tell me you’d rather jump off a twenty-story building and smash in your skull than marry me,” Ivan went on desperately. “I am
not
a fate worse than death, dammit! Or at least not worse than
that
death, good God!”

“But what about Rish?” asked Tej. Her chin came up. “You can’t marry us
both
…can you?”

“Uh.” said Ivan. He cast a beseeching look at By, who held up his hand as if to fend off an attacking mini-drone.

“No,” said Rish, coolly.

“
Thank
you,” said By. His expression grew inward for a moment. “I think…”

“I’ll, I’ll, I’ll…hire you for something, after,” said Ivan. “Lady’s maid? Lots of Vor women have them. M’mother does, I know. At that point, you’ll be properly employed by a Barrayaran subject, a
Vor
subject, and we can fudge it with Immigration later. From a safe distance.”

“Then who will protect us from ImpSec?” said Rish.

“I will,” Ivan promised recklessly. “I can call in some favors. And if not, I know people who can. Starting with m’mother’s gentleman friend, if I have to. Or maybe as a last resort.”
Definitely as a last resort
. “Can’t I, By?”

This last proposal left By standing like a mesmerized waxwork effigy. But he did manage to make his mouth move—it was By, of course he managed to make his mouth move. “I don’t know if I want to watch when you tell your mother about this, or flee the Empire. Given that you’re making me complicit as your Second, maybe Old Earth would be far enough…no, farther than that…” He shook himself out of his paralysis and turned to the women. “Much as I hate to admit it, this notion of Ivan’s would work. Temporarily. It’s the long-term consequences that terrify me.”

“And after what you just did,” Ivan went on to Tej, disregarding By’s last comment, “you can’t convince me that you’d rather kiss the pavement than kiss me.”
My mouth is still tingling.
“Not that you’ll have to kiss me, if you don’t want to. Totally up to you, what happens after, I hope that goes without saying.”

More alarming thumps and crashes from the hallway. Rish wet her lips and said, “Do it, Tej. And we’ll find out if it works soon enough. We’re out of time to debate. Or for the tub.” She reset the safety and slipped her stunner back into her pocket in wordless acquiescence.

Ivan held out his hand to Tej. “Tej, will you please try this?”

She rubbed her forehead, and said doubtfully, “I guess so…” As the first acceptance to a marriage proposal that Ivan had ever received in his life, this lacked a certain something, but she took his hand and stepped over the line of groats into the circle.

Ivan pointed. “By, Rish, you stand on either side, facing each other. You’re the witnesses, so watch.”

“I doubt I’ll be able to look away,” murmured Byerly, holstering his stunner as well and stepping up to his assigned spot. “It’ll be just like watching a monorail wreck.” Rish rolled her eyes—in agreement?—and took her place opposite.

“All right, I’ll go first,” said Ivan to his bride-to-be, “and then I’ll coach you through your part. Wording’s about the same. ‘I, Ivan Xav Vorpatril, being of sound mind and body—’”

“That’s for
wills
, Ivan,” muttered By. “I thought you said you knew this stuff?”

Ivan ignored him and plowed on. “Do take thee, uh…what did you say your name was, again?”

By buried his face in his hands.

Tej repeated it. All of it.

“Do take thee, Akuti Tejaswini Jyoti ghem Estif Arqua”—and he’d got the pronunciation right the
first time
, and didn’t even choke on the
ghem
part, hah!—“to be my spouse and helpmeet, forsaking all others…” The core of the oath was only three sentences. He got them out somehow, and coached Tej through her half. “…
do take thee, Ivan Xav Vorpatril, to be my spouse
…” Her hands were shaking, held in his. So were his.

“And that’s it!” said Ivan. “We now pronounce each other spouse and spouse, before these witnesses, and I get to kiss you. Again. For the first time. Because before, you kissed me, right?” He locked himself to her lips, rolling his eyes as By stepped forward and swept a break through the groat barrier with his shoe. They swung out of the circle together, Byerly stretched his neck and pecked her on the cheek in passing, and six irate, swearing Komarrans stumbled over each other out of Ivan’s hallway and advanced upon them, stunners at the ready.

Ivan drew a wad of cash from his wallet, thrust it into the startled Rish’s hand, and added, “You’re hired. Officially.”

And, as a uniformed woman reached out to seize Tej, who shrank away, continued in a forceful bellow modeled directly on Count Falco: “Unhand Lady Vorpatril!”

Chapter Seven

Tej had spent days steeling herself for death. This wrenching turn in her affairs left her stomach floating as if she
had
just jumped over that beckoning balcony, except that this fall didn’t come to an end. She felt weightless, like a drowning woman. The mad captain seemed to have clamped a rescuing arm around her neck and be towing her along, but was it toward some unseen shore, or farther out into deeper waters?

She should have spotted that Ivan Xav was insane before this. Surely there had been
clues
. But he had, despite it all, seemed so easy-going, so affable, so
comfortable
—or at least unwilling to be thrust out of his comforts—a welcome rarity, among the people in her life. And then, with no warning, this.

Maddest of all was that his ploy seemed to be
working
. The Komarran Dome cops neither arrested him, nor seized him to be carried off for some psychiatric observation. Byerly Vorrutyer, introduced as an acquaintance from Vorbarr Sultana and presenting valid identification, blandly testified to the ceremony he had just witnessed, pointing out the circle of groats ground into the carpet as supporting physical evidence. Rish backed him up, if in a slightly choked voice. There followed much frantic consultation of wristcom hololinks on the parts of both the dome cops and the Immigration officers, which apparently returned some very unwelcome answers. Ivan Xav retrieved his now-silent wristcom from the refrigerator and, anxious to get to his military HQ, cut the attendant explanations quite short.

The dome cops were plainly not happy that the discovery of Tej, transmuted from kidnap victim to runaway bride, had spoiled their hoped-for case against the Barrayaran. They retired thwarted and surly, with mutters about subpoenas for material witnesses to be promptly forthcoming, as they were still left with the puzzle of the budget ninjas on their hands. But they couldn’t arrest Tej for being a crime
victim
. The Immigration people, too, retreated like a force planning a rematch, but the important thing was that it cleared the doorway
now
, except for a brief argument with the building manager about the damages. Vorpatril, affronted, pointed out
he
hadn’t created the mess, but impatiently short-circuited the sting by telling the manager to put the repair costs on his rental charges. The two tense Barrayarans then gave Tej and Rish barely time to throw on street clothes and grab their most important possessions—not many left of those by now—before hustling them out the wrecked doorway, down the lift tubes, and through the lobby.

Outside, Vorpatril swung Byerly aside and backed him up into a wall niche behind a tall, potted evergreen. She could hear very little of their rapid, low-voiced exchange over the street noise, but it seemed to involve a lot of jaw-clenching and teeth-baring. Under a flowing headscarf, Rish all but pricked her ears. Tej leaned toward the pair, but only caught Ivan’s Xav’s forceful
You
owe
me, and I’m collecting…
and, as he finally eased back and released his unwilling auditor,
Go do what you have to do.
Byerly was more successful at pitching his voice not to carry, so all Tej had to go on was his body language. She’d never before seen someone swear quite so emphatically in body language. But when they started again toward the bubble-car platform, Byerly hastened off in the opposite direction.

They were about to cross the street when Vorpatril herded her and Rish abruptly into the doorway of a shop not yet open, spinning Tej around to face him—and, she realized, to shield him from view. “What is it?” she whispered, acquiescing to the tactic as soon as she recognized it.

“Service Security,” he muttered into her hair. “A whole patrol. Just came charging out of the bubble-car station—yep, heading for my building, all right. Two enlisteds, a sergeant, and a colonel,
hoo
boy. Desplains must have dispatched them for me. I wonder if they mean to rescue me, or arrest me?…I think we don’t want to stick around to find out. They can have a nice, long chat with the building manager. He deserves it, and it’ll hold ’em for just long enough, I think. Come on, hurry.”

Vorpatril’s wooden smile and this-is-all-normal posture didn’t slip till he’d bundled them into a bubble car and it was bowling along the route out to the military shuttleport. He slumped in his seat and addressed himself to his wristcom with the caution of a man defusing a bomb. At some return code, he muttered in relief, “Oh, good, he’s got it on voice delay,” and continued more brightly, “Admiral Desplains, Vorpatril here, sir. Sorry about the holdup this morning, but I have the misunderstanding with the Komarrans all straightened out. Nobody’s trying to arrest me anymore”—his lips silently mouthed,
I hope
—“but I have one more short stop to make at ImpSec Galactic Affairs to settle a few details. I’ll meet you and the Horsemen out at Dock Six. I’ll explain everything else when I get there.” He made to cut the com, but then raised it to his lips and added, “Please don’t leave without me. It’s important.”

He blew out his breath, then entered another code, and made an appointment with someone named Captain Morozov to meet them in a few minutes at some lobby security desk. Tej and Rish looked uneasily at each other.

“That’s your ImpSec person you mentioned who studies Jackson’s Whole?” asked Rish.

“Morozov, yes. Good scout, bit of a boffin, but he’s really
interested
, you know. I mean, above and beyond what he has to be for his duties as an analyst, which I suppose is what makes him a top boffin. I thought I’d leave you two with him for the day. You can’t go back to my flat—after all that uproar this morning, it’s gotta be smoked.”

“True,” said Rish, reluctantly.

“But however you feel about ImpSec, I can pretty much guarantee that nobody’s rent-a-goons can get at you inside their HQ.”

“But surely this Captain Morozov will want to know things,” said Tej. “What should we tell him?”

Ivan Xav shrugged. “Everything. He’s even cleared to know about By, though I doubt he does—not his department.”

“Even about the—the wedding thing?”

He sighed. “I’ll tell him about that.”

When they exited into the busy bubble-car station out by the shuttleport, Rish said, “I have to pee,” grabbed Tej, and towed her into the ladies’ lavatory. Vorpatril made frustrated gestures of protest, but stopped short of following them inside. They left him standing in the corridor alongside a couple of other males with glazed, waiting expressions.

It didn’t matter; there was only the one door, and no windows, Tej automatically noted as they entered. A woman dealing with a wailing infant, and another attempting to shepherd two hyperactive and not-well-trained toddlers through their ablutions, gave plenty of sound cover and guaranteed that no one was paying them the least attention.

Rish retreated to a corner and turned Tej around, strong blue hands gripping her shoulders. “Talk to me, Tej. You look like someone hit you on the head with a mallet, and you’re just waiting to fall down. You’re scaring me, sweetling.”